Remus Loves His Son's Hair
by cookiecat4444
Summary: Remus Lupin loves his wife and son, Nymphadora and Teddy Lupin, and he enjoys appreciating what a great fortune they are to his, previously hard but now peaceful, life. This one-shot shows his thoughts about his son's favorite feature to change and morph, and what he enjoys about it the most.


Remus lupin loves his son's hair.

It's rather soft, clean and also very thick, with wild chunks that curled softly at the tip and never stayed down, much like Remus's wife's hair texture. Nymphadora's hair seemed to have a force of gravity all to it's own.

Teddy was certainly his mother's son, and it warmed his heart to no end.

Another interesting feature he enjoyed in his son's hair was its constant change in color. It used to be an amusing surprise every morning to see what outrageous color his son will grace them with at the breakfast table.

Unlike his eye color, which he kept it his natural pale blue (the same as Sirius's,) his hair was never the same. It changed not just daily, but sometimes hourly.

His hair color also made it easier to get a brief summary of his emotional state at any given moment, and considering the fact that he was fathering a teenager with frequent mood swings, this was certainly a huge advantage.

When Teddy was a toddler, he used to play a color game with Dora. The game was introduced as a gift from Hermione on Teddy's first birthday. Apparently, her uncle owned a paint shop and sold these booklets that contained plenty of colors, hues and shades to satisfy anybody's wall painting needs...and Teddy's endless curiosity.

"It would do him well to acquire a color library from an early age" Hermione explained that day. "It'll help him practice more, not that he needs encouragement to do that. He seems to enjoy morphing colors already all on his own." Remus recalled her face smiling fondly at the laughing baby, who at the time lounged on his grandmother's thighs, Andromeda, wearing her curly, dark brown hair.

Teddy never got enough of that game, and neither did his parents. God bless Hermione.

He used to squeeze his eyes shut in pure concentration, face red from holding his breath. With In a blink of an eye, he would have replicated a different hue of Crimson, coping the color in the little rectangular booklet that sat in Dora's hands.

By five years old, he already mastered how to Ombre a shade of color. Ever since, his default stayed a beautiful blend of royal blue at the roots to a rich shade of turquoise at the ends. Dark navy placed on the lower part of his scalp, near the back of his neck.

He kept his day-to-day haircut relatively normal. (Thank god, for Remus has seen the boy in a mohawk before, and he was definitely glad it didn't suit Ted's fancy) The style was quite popular among the children of his generation: shorter hair at the neck, longer and fuller hair at the top. It was all rather aesthetically pleasing, if he was honest with himself.

However, despite all the beautiful colors his boy would love to peacock, his favorite had to be his natural color, simply because he never sports it often enough. Despite that, Remus is glad for its rarity in Teddy's collection.

Fortunately, Ted is quite a cheerful boy. He hadn't faced any emotionally numbing experiences to strip him from his morph, and Remus prayed it never, ever, happens. He still remembers what he had done to poor Dora during the war. Remus hoped he won't be the one causing his to loss his morphing magic. No, no Remus was certainly glad he doesn't the natural hair when the boy is awake. He only spots Teddy's natural hair when the child sinks to slumber.

As his breathing deepens, his morph slips slowly. His hair would grow a bit longer at the nape, and a golden honey-brown color would start spreading from the roots to the tips of his hair, much like frost on glass windows. Remus adores this brown color, because it's his exact same shade hair color. He liked to think that there was a part of himself hidden within Teddy.

The best part about this connection was that his boy would wear the color so much _better_.

Remus's hair had gray streaks running through it ever since he could understand the curse that possessed him. Unlike popular beliefs, the color doesn't come with the lycanthropy, rather the stress and the agony of the monthly transformations bring it out. Ironically enough, his 'furry little problem' caused his hair to become thinner than it already was naturally, all due to constant exhaustion and strains. He resented his hair during his Hogwarts years, especially when he compared it to James's wild, raven hair and Sirius's dark, long strands. It was another reminder that he was a very scarred, pale, and _sick _boy.

What Remus finds fascinating with a sleeping Teddy is that he looks so much like him, and yet the complete opposite.

Teddy's hair color would be pure honey, not a streak of gray infecting it. His crown would be full with thick locks clumped wildly together over his forehead. Some of Remus's features in him, like the nose and cheeks, would be unscarred, fair but with a rosy plum that glowed with youth.

His son was blessed with health.

He was born healthy and clean from the curse that plagues his father, and this thought alone gave him a smile every night. It was the biggest comfort in the world to see, under the morphing mask his son wears, a strong, _healthy _boy.

It was the most comforting thing till this evening.

Remus walked through the door inflammatory to find his fourteen-year-old as pale as the cursed moon, laying between the white sheets of Hogwarts' beds.

Remus ran his hand through his son's hair, untangling a few dry locks, as he breathed a kiss on his warm forehead, hoping to wake the normally active boy up.

Teddy didn't move a muscle.

"Poppy," Dora beside him whispered, her hands squeezing her son's, "Is our son ok?"

Poppy didn't meet either of their eyes. She stood on the other side of the bed, her nimble hands fussing the sheet that seemed to swallow their son whole. She had, on the table, a bag that contained potion supplies, and- were these clothes? Finally, she raised her eyes to meet his.

Her expression froze him.

She was nervous. This woman, who healed thousands of injuries and cured hundreds of students with a confident wave of her wand and with the experience of decades in the practice, was nervous. Poppy never looked nervous about a patient unless-

"Remus, Theodore is extremely sick. I am afraid Minerva and I will have to transfer him to St. Mongue, urgently."


End file.
